small store

it's a small
store on the edge of
a small town.
three steps up.
wooden,
rotted, a broken
hinge
on a torn screen door.
it's seen better days.
the pickle jar
still on the counter.
lotto tickets
for sale.
pork sausages on a spinning
metal grille.
mom is gone.
pop too.
the daughter runs it now,
four kids
and a husband who took
a wrong turn
and just kept going.
she's pleasant enough though.
sees that you're
just passing through.
tells you
where to turn to get
to the interstate.
gas, a motel
if you need to spend
the night.
y'all take care she
says.
as you carry out your
water, your
ring dings, your bag
of chips
and a map to get back
to civilization.